


Staying Here

by resonae



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: M/M, Mind Control, Rape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-25
Updated: 2012-11-25
Packaged: 2017-11-19 11:36:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/572837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/resonae/pseuds/resonae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki's going to take down the Hawk, and he's got the perfect way to do it. By taking over Captain America's mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Staying Here

**Author's Note:**

> For the [kinkmeme](http://avengerkink.livejournal.com/6565.html?thread=12255653) prompt.

“Hello, Clint.”

 

The voice is cold, emotionless. Clint turns around in a snap, but there’s already a heavy hand clutching at his wrist as he reaches for an arrow. “Cap.” He says, his voice fighting to stay even, but failing and shaking violently instead.

 

“Clint.” Steve smiled, smiling eerily. His eyes were an electric blue, unnatural and alien and _everything_ Clint couldn’t deal with. He tried to pull away, but Steve was stronger than he was. “Hey.” Before Clint could do anything, he was pressed up against the wall, his thighs spread as Steve squeezed between them.

 

“Cap.” He repeated. “Cap, what are you doing?” He tried to bring his other hand up but it was caught again easily. Steve held both of his wrists easily in one hand, squeezing down when Clint tried to struggle. Clint took a deep breath and stared up defiantly. “Stop.” He said, trying to sound strong. His voice wavered because he _knew_ Steve couldn’t stop no matter how much he wanted.

 

And Steve was almost laughably stronger than he was. This was a guy who could take a Chitauri blast to the stomach and still be able to stand up and fight like it was no big deal. If Clint got a Chitauri blast to the stomach, he’d be cut in half.

 

He’d take Natasha’s advice of _hit really hard on the head_ , but Clint couldn’t move his arms. And his legs were pretty much immobilized by Steve’s solid weight. He’s going to kill me, Clint thought desperately, wishing they’d waited for Tony to figure out the jamming in the comms before they set out to do this.

 

But they’d been panicked. Steve was _Captain America_. Loki wasn’t supposed to take him, wasn’t supposed to be able to control Captain America. And Clint, because Clint knew the horrors of being ripped out of your own head and not understanding anything until you woke up. Clint didn’t want to give Steve, of all people, a reason for nightmares. For guilt.

 

Clint looked back up at the unnaturally bright eyes and swallowed thickly. “Cap, you don’t want to do this.” Clint said, his voice steady for once. “You – You don’t want to kill me.”

 

Steve looked genuinely surprised. “I’m not going to _kill_ you, Clint.” Steve smiled, and pressed himself tighter to Clint. Clint’s mind snapped immediately to the hardening bulge pressing up against him. His eyes widened and Clint looked down. Steve purred in his ear, swiping a hot tongue around the shell. “I’ll make you feel so good, Clint. Wanted this since the moment I saw you.”

 

Before Clint could respond or struggle, Steve was zipping open his tactical vest, tearing away at the undershirt beneath. “Cap, Cap, _wait_ , CAP!” He tried to push, but Steve continued easily to his pants, unzipping them and pushing them down easily. Clint tried to kick out once his legs were bare, but Steve caught him easily and pushed him on the floor. “Cap.” Clint said, his voice shaking. “Cap, please.”

 

“Shhh.” Steve said, kneeling and licking his cheek. “Gonna make you feel so good, Clint.” He kept a firm grip around Clint’s wrists and Clint heard the clink of metal too late before he realized Steve was pushing his wrists backward and together. “Don’t struggle, Clint. They’ll cut into your wrists.”

 

Clint tried to rise again when Steve let his wrists go, but Steve kept a firm hand on his shoulder, pushing him down and Clint wanted to throw up at the difference in strength. How could Steve keep him down with one hand?

 

He heard the unzip of a zipper and his gaze flew upward. Before he could even clench his jaws shut, Steve squeezed his cheeks and forced his mouth open before shoving a thick rod of flesh inside. Clint choked at first before he forced his throat to relax. He couldn’t even bite down because of Steve’s grip on his cheeks, keeping his jaw open.

 

He tried to protest, to struggle, but Steve kept him firmly immobile, managing to keep him down and fuck his mouth at the same time. Clint shivered and wished he could block out the feeling of a musky, thick flesh invading his mouth, the balls slapping against his chin, the trail of saliva that thickened every time Steve pulled out and then shoved back in.

 

“Ready?” Steve grunted, panting lightly, and Clint braced himself as Steve’s thrusts became more urgent. Steve pushed in deeply, shoving his cock down Clint’s throat, and Clint felt the bitter liquid shoot down his throat. Steve kept his cock inside Clint’s mouth until Clint swallowed, and he pulled out, grinning softly. “You’re so good, Clint.”

 

Clint said nothing. He wanted to spit to get the taste out of his mouth, but Steve was holding his cheeks, no doubt causing bruises as Steve nudged Clint’s thighs open and settled between them, pushing Clint onto his back.

 

Clint tried to struggle again, but Steve pressed a knee into his thighs, causing him to cry out as sharp pain flashed through his legs. “Don’t make me break your legs, Clint.” Steve said, still smiling as he nibbled down Clint’s neck. “Keep still. You’re going to _love_ this, Clint. Gonna make it so good for you.”

 

Clint swallowed thickly but was unable to say anything with Steve’s fingers gripping his cheeks. Steve tilted his hips up and smiled. “I love you so much, Clint. So, so much.”

 

 _No, stop it._ Clint wanted to scream. _Fuck you, Loki!_

 

His mind stopped functioning when Steve pushed through. Clint’s cry came out choked and mangled in his throat, and his mind was a race of _ohgodohgodnoithurtsstopit_. Steve was panting above him. “You’re so tight, Clint.” Steve whispered, loosening his grip on his jaws to grip bruises into Clint’s hips. “God, you feel incredible.”

 

Clint kicked out – he was in too much pain to think otherwise – and was responded with Steve gripping his knee mid-kick. Steve was halfway inside, and the burn from the lack of preparation and lubrication was shooting straight up Clint’s spine.

 

But it was nothing prepared to the agony that came with a sickening crunch as Steve jammed down on his thigh, breaking the bone there. Clint let out a scream even as Steve took a grip on his broken thigh to slam inside. The pain of the rape barely registered over his broken leg, and Steve took Clint’s hands, broke the cuffs almost laughably easily. He brought Clint’s left hand to his lips, kissing each knuckle before Clint realized there was too much pressure on his dominant hand. “No, no, no! Steve, please, ple-” There was another snap of bones and Clint let out a broken cry.

 

“You’re never going to have to take up an arrow again, Clint.” Steve said, kissing Clint’s forehead. “I never liked you on the battle field. You’re so _vulnerable_ , too human. You won’t have to shoot at anything, Clint. I’ll protect you.”

 

Clint fell limply against Steve, his sobs coming in broken gasps. He felt the release inside him like hot scalding water, and tried to curl up but was prevented by the sharp pain in his thigh. He opted for letting his eyes fall shut instead. Fainting. Sounded like a good idea.

 

\--

 

It was a nightmare.

 

Had to be. Steve’s hands shook as he pulled himself out of Clint. A string of blood and semen followed him and he had to vomit off to the side. Clint was pale, limp in unconsciousness. His right leg stuck out at an odd angle, and his left hand was cradled carefully on his stomach.

 

“Ah.” A familiar voice. “And so the hawk falls.” Loki stepped into view, gloating over Clint’s fallen form. He looked up to Steve with a sadistic smile. “And I’ve you to thank, Captain.”

 

Steve couldn’t respond. All he could hear was his blood rushing through his ears as he pulled Clint to him. Clint whimpered when his leg was jarred, and Steve froze. Loki smiled. “No one to blame but yourself, Captain. You were the one who told me how much you loved him. You recall, do you not?”

 

Steve did. He remembered Loki asking him what his opinion on Clint was, and he remembered _everything_. He remembered pouring his heart out to Loki, the confession spilling off his lips. This is what Clint had felt, Steve realized, when he had woken up from his own mind control.

 

Except Clint hadn’t directly hurt anyone he’d known. He’d blown out engines, but he hadn’t shot arrows into anyone’s heads. He’d attacked Natasha, but even as she put it, he hadn’t hurt her at all. Clint had been able to control himself, to an extent.

 

Steve had hurt Clint. He reached for the broken wrist and hoped it was fixable. It hung limply in Steve’s careful grasp. He pulled Clint’s clothes around him as much as he could and found it was impossible to pull over his broken leg and wrist. Loki was gone – he found that he couldn’t care, not while Clint was broken in his arms.

 

He walked. He knew the others had to be around somewhere, _somewhere_ , and he just walked. He didn’t have to wait long. There was a rush of repulsor and thruster, and Tony’s mechanized voice came. “ _Drop Clint, Steve._ ”

 

Steve turned. “Tony.” He swallowed thickly, and saw Tony freeze at Clint’s state. “Please. We need help.”

 

Tony landed cautiously and flipped his visor up. A few moments of searching Steve’s face must have given him answers, because he ran over to Clint. “Jesus.” He said, his fingers tracing over Clint’s broken wrist. “Okay, we can fix that. It’ll take some time and physical therapy, but we can fix that. Bruce and I.” Tony said. “That, too.” His fingers moved down to Clint’s rapidly bruising thigh. His breath caught. “Shit.” He said, when he saw the trail of red and white. “Loki _raped_ him too?”

 

Steve’s voice caught in his throat. “No, it was me.” He whispered. “I did that to him. All of – all of this, it was-”

 

“Hey, Steve.” Tony’s voice was hard. “Remember how we spent months convincing Clint that nothing was his fault because it _wasn’t_?”

 

“This is different.”

 

“Yeah? How?” Tony challenged, then huffed. “Listen, we don’t have time for this.” He pushed Steve along. “We need to get out of this building and call for Medical.”

 

\--

 

Thor knelt down in front of Steve, and Steve was horrified. “Loki will pay for this.” Thor said, his voice low and angry. “He will.”

 

Steve shook his head and looked at Clint, sleeping soundly on the bed. His leg was bound tightly as was his wrist. He’d suffered some rectal bruising and tearing, but those would heal fast, especially with rest. “The femur takes a long time to heal, but it’ll heal.” Bruce reassured Steve. “Same with his wrist. It actually wasn’t that bad. It’s a clean break. None of the ligaments are torn, none of the bones broke skin. He’ll be good in eight weeks, and he can start training on it again. He’s in such good physical shape, it shouldn’t even take that much training to get it back to normal.”

 

Steve had nodded numbly. Clint _looked_ peaceful, but he didn’t know if that was the painkillers at work. Natasha looked at him. “He’ll be okay, Cap.” She said, nodding. “He’s gone through worse.”

 

Steve said nothing.

 

\--

 

When Clint woke up, the people there were Natasha, Thor and Bruce. According to Bruce, Thor had knelt down and actually cried, begging for forgiveness for about half an hour until Clint convinced him he was perfectly fine.

 

“Is he?” Steve asked quietly.

 

“Yes.” Bruce said firmly. “He was panicked for a bit about his wrist, but I explained to him how the break wasn’t bad and that he should easily be able to use it to the way it was again, he was fine.” He cleared his throat. “He asked for you.” When Steve said nothing, Bruce placed a hand on his shoulder. “Natasha isn’t out for your blood. Isn’t that a good sign?”

 

When Steve looked up, Bruce was smiling softly. “He must hate me.”

 

“No.” Bruce said, shaking his head adamantly. “He doesn’t hate you, Steve. But he does want to see you. You should go see him.”

 

\--

 

Steve got him when Clint was by himself. Or rather, Natasha saw him coming and shooed Thor away. Clint greeted him with a tentative smile and nodded to the chair nearby. They sat in silence, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Steve noticed the way Clint was running his finger over the cast on his wrist, and winced softly. Clint noticed. “It’s okay.” He smiled. “I was freaked out at first, but Bruce and Tony said they got it under control. Even if I couldn’t use my hand, you don’t think I’d just lie there, right? I can learn to shoot with my right hand.”

 

He looked offended, but not scarred. Steve fought the urge to take Clint’s hand and kiss him. That was probably still not the best thing to do. He wasn’t going to initiate any touches with Clint. “If I’m being polite, I’d ask you if you meant everything you said, but I’ve been where you were. You don’t lie when you’re down there.”

 

Clint fell into silence, and Steve couldn’t say anything but his apologies. “I’m so sorry, Clint.” He whispered, gripping wrinkles into his jeans. “I don’t know how – I know it’s hard to forgive me, and I-”

 

Clint reached over and pushed his right hand onto Steve’s lips. “Don’t say it, Steve. It’s not your fault. I know it doesn’t help, but… It isn’t. You blaming yourself for this is the same thing as saying you blaming me for what I did to the Helicarrier.”

 

“It’s different.”

 

“Why?” Clint’s voice was soft. “I’m fine, Steve.”

 

Steve looked down at his hands, and the hand that had fallen form his lips to grip at his hand. “Because you cried.” Steve answered. “You don’t remember, do you? You were crying even when you were unconscious. ”

 

He was answered by silence, and Steve gripped his fists and clenched his eyes shut. But there was a clatter and before Steve could open his eyes to figure out what had made the noise, he felt chapped lips pressing into his for a brief second before a heavy weight fell onto his lap. He managed to anchor himself and not fall backward, wrapping his arms around the weight.

 

When he opened his eyes, he found Clint staring up at him, halfway off the bed and in a tangle of wires and IV tubes. “Ha.” Clint said, poking him in the stomach with his cast arm. “I remember. And fuck this, I can’t keep balance with one bad leg. So you’re going to stay with me. Until my leg heals. And then forever after that. So there. Can’t get rid of me that easily.”


End file.
